


Cat Burglary

by MorbidOptimist



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Sibling Incest, tw: mentions of animal cruelity, tw: murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 02:07:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6781003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorbidOptimist/pseuds/MorbidOptimist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxy cares too much and Rose loves too strongly; it's all too easy to lose your way when you take matters into your own hands. Roxy has made it her business to rescue cats with no other hope for salvation, and Rose willing to do whatever it takes to assist her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cat Burglary

**Author's Note:**

> warning, there is animal cruelty in this, so if brief descriptions of that make you uncomfortable, this may not be the fic for you. otherwise, enjoy!

“Roxy, darling sister of mine, spawn of our mother’s respective pride and micromanaging tendencies, the effervescent and vibratious splash of personality and character that bequeathed me her presence to remain beside mine upon my birth and ever thereafter, please, feel free assuage my concerns as petty consternations here, but why, exactly, did you feel the need to ask me hypothetical questions at one in the morning?”

There was a small static sprinkled pause from the other side of the line during which the younger Lalonde sister cursed under her breath as she finally coaxed the lamp residing on her bedside nightstand to illuminate her room, momentarily blinding her.

“Hey uh, Rosey, about that. Umm, if I did something really bad… like really really bad, would you have my back?”  
The drowsy fog of sleep instantly drained from Rose’s mind and the her room snapped into focus with crystal clarity; she sat up as if she had been prodded with a jolt of electricity and the hairs along the nape of her neck stood on edge.

  
“Where are you?”

~~~~

Rose liked to consider herself many things; a master executor of the English language, an excellent marksman of rapier wit, a proprietor of insight to nearly all things psycho- and physio- logical and, more relevantly, someone who strove to maintain loyalty and concern to those precious few she cared about.

  
Which is why she was currently driving to the coordinates delivered via text message to an unknown destination to help her sister in some manner of illicit activity without hesitation and on a school night, no less.

  
She hadn’t been quite sure what she should bring.

  
Her solution then, was to pack for possibilities.

  
There was a set of long knitting needles in her pocket, a flashlight resting on her lap, a first aid kit and a roll of duct tape in her glove box, two black sweaters riding shotgun, and a shovel that had seen better days resting obediently in the backseat. There was also a box of trashbags and a few pairs of latex free gloves awaiting further instruction from their positions on the floor.

  
There was also a bottle of chloroform and a rag sitting beside them.

  
She didn't know whether to feel nervous or relieved that her mother would neither question nor miss their disappearance from her stores in the lab.

  
Rose did not question the morality of her actions, for she knew without a trace of doubt, that her sister would do anything within her power to help any one of their family or friends, no matter the situation they found themselves in, and therefore, as a matter of pride and reciprocated camaraderie, Rose could offer no less.

  
Her stomach began to turn; she really hoped her sister hadn't killed anyone.

  
She had grown up expecting to overhear a late night call from her uncle, informing her mother of the inevitable trouble he was going to undoubtedly one day corner himself into, but had yet to find himself in.

  
She had quietly anticipated getting a late night call herself, and had actually placed bets with her deceased feline companion about when she would receive such a call.

  
Technically speaking, both her brothers had idolized their uncle far too much, and had therefore been at risk of requesting aid, but Dirk held just the right amount of toxic mindscapes and bad habits to get himself into trouble first and worse in Rose’s mind. He also lacked Bro’s finesse to escape every probability of experiencing any and all repercussions of his actions the way their uncle could.

  
It would have been something dumb too, she was sure, like vandalism or vagrancy.

  
Well, until he had started up his smuppet snuff site that was; that was what had really tipped the scales from silly to serious, or so she had assumed.

  
She hadn’t ruled out a call from her twin brother entirely however; Dave often found himself pushed into trouble that he had no desire to be in; usually brought on by the way Bro and Dirk goaded him into following in their footsteps.

  
Therefore Rose had wordlessly planned for most of her late childhood to anticipate and acquiesce the inevitable pleading and emotionless whispers for things absurd; an embarrassing photo to be sent to the papers or an outrageous alibi involving at least one orangutan and no less than fourteen midgets, one smuppet, and a bottle of body glitter, instead of offering them something sensible like a shovel or an axe or bandaid or a lawyer.

  
She had even expected herself to have gotten into trouble, perhaps next in the line even after their uncle for being most at risk of falling headfirst into something she really had no business delving into.

  
But no.

  
It had been Roxy, out of all of them, to make the call their family had long been waiting to receive.

  
It was almost laughable really, that her darling big sister who was so genuine and consistent in her affections that for the longest time in her childhood, she and Dave nearly had a habit of calling her their mother, much to their actual mother’s deep unamusement.

  
She bit back a smile as hazy memories frothed softly through her brain; memories of kissed skinned-knees and sneak-thieved late night cookies, of bedtime stories and bubble baths always presented at a perfect temperature with over the maximum levels of optimum bubbleage; of recorded violin recitals and long winded fanfiction reviews composed in lolspeak and emojis; of late night star watching and meteor spotting and of rage-quitting co-op and PvP video games; popcorn throwing, pillow fighting, karate learning, feelings jamming; and then memories most cherished of all: memories of late night talks shared underneath quilted covers, contents secretly whispered from ear to ear and heartfelt promises traded like tiny treasures peppered with tiny kisses and hands held steadfast.

  
Rose’s real hands began to clench tightly around the steering wheel; her lips grew taut and her eyes drained grim.

  
Her sister had done everything in her power to make her youth as fun as and sincere and loving as possible; a stark contrast to the withdrawn and emotionally unavailable passive-aggressive enigma that was their matronly genetic forebear, who even at the best of times preferred her beverages, datapads, and beakers over her adopted proteges and twin accidents.

  
She took pride in her offsprings’ accomplishments, and showered them in worldly possessions when mood struck her to do so and paid their way wherever they desired to go, but offered nothing more.

  
Roxy had been the one to assign the chores; to check tied shoelaces and to read over homework and offer assistance. She had made lunches and procured snacks. She prompted Dirk to shower and coaxed Dave to relax and not pick the scars. Roxy had made a point to remind her whenever needed, that sometimes even if things could not always be taken at face value, sometimes, the sentiment behind them could.

  
Aside, perhaps, from her twin, Roxy had always been her best and truest friend.

  
Likely been all of of her siblings’ best and truest friend, all things considered.

  
And now Roxy had gotten herself into trouble, really bad trouble, if her phone call had been anything to go by.  
Panic began to spike through Rose’s chest as the thought repeated itself.

  
Roxy was in trouble; her sister was in trouble.

  
She ground her teeth together to keep them from chattering.

  
As soon as Rose got her sister out of trouble, she was going to absolutely _throttle_ her.

  
Cursing quietly under her breath, Rose then hoped that her sister would still be in a condition to be saved from trouble in the first place when she arrived; it was a couple of miles from their home to Roxy’s campus, and the few miles extra to reach wherever her sister had gotten herself to only served as an invitation to worry her lip.

  
She drove as fast as she dared and far more cautious than she wanted; telling herself it wouldn’t do Roxy any good to find herself detained for the evening with her license revoked and their mother involved.

  
Once she reached Roxy’s campus, she had to check her phone’s GPS app several times to be sure that she was headed in the right direction; she had only been able to see her sister’s college and the areas surrounding it once before, and that had been the day she and her mother helped Roxy get settled into her new room half a year prior.

  
Everything looked so utterly different, in the dark.

  
Eventually, after far too long driving on faith alone for Rose’s tastes, nearly an hour after her sister’s call, her coordinates matched the ones her sister had sent.

  
She parked her car and got out to scan the immediate area, her flashlight and needles in tow.

  
The empty field at first did not look promising; it was far too close to the city to make for a good place to dump a body, and the grass and brambles were too high to make for a fun camping excursion that an inebriated sorority group might aspire to carry anything out in.

  
Rose walked a bit further until she caught a tired looking house in the beam of her torch.

  
It definitely looked worse for wear, even in the dim light afforded to her, with rain rotted shutters, chipped paint, and a slightly sagging porch roof; she could make out what looked like a large shed just behind it.

  
With a sharp but steady intake of breath, the young Lalonde strove forward and headed to the shed when she noticed the door looked to be ajar.

  
Roxy had likely broken in, Rose decided when she drew close enough to inspect it; she highly doubted that the locking mechanism had managed to pick itself after all.

  
She stood in front of the door for a few seconds, drawing in precious air, and tried to steady the whirlwinding beat of her heart; she only hoped that her years of experience as a writer would pay off.

  
Her last thought as she walked into the shed was to curse the fact that she had left the shovel in the car.

 

~~~~~

“...Hey sis, don’t suppose you brought any catnip purrchance?”

  
She had been somewhat expecting Roxy to toss her a one-liner, to lighten whatever situation she had undoubtedly created, but Rose almost found her brain stalling over her sister’s choice of words before understanding slowly began to creep in and spin the wheels once more.

  
Wordlessly, Rose slowly cast the beam of light around across the walls, revealing crates upon crates of malnourished kittens and the few nearly unresponsive ‘adult’ felines that had been used to bring them into existence.

  
She didn’t want to even contemplate the numerable health issues that most of these cats were making a last stand against. Rose was suddenly glad it was pitch black outside the dim glowing beam of her flashlight; there would be time enough for pity and tears once everyone was transported home safe and sound, and until then, she had to remain strong.

  
In the center of the room, kneeling on the ground was her sister, who had taken the time to carefully pull out any feline that had passed beyond the veil and laid them neatly side by side, of which there were too many to judge without counting; Rose figured Roxy’s phone was no doubt brimming with pictures of each one, complete with elaborate and dignified names, so that their passing might rest easier on their battered souls and prey into any sympathetic eyes she would hand the evidence to. She was also certain that Roxy had already taken video footage of the cages lining either wall and the living conditions within each one, down to the last probable flea.

  
Rose looked from the deceased felines to her sister's eyes to find them brimming with twin seas of candy colored sadness and indignant rage.

  
Her sister always had loved far too strongly.

  
Rose’s mouth went dry and she started to shake violently as relief and anger washed into her body, almost as if a dam had been broken and she was now caught powerless in the wake of the after-flow.

  
Mistaking her sisters emotions for grief, Roxy stood up and walked over to her, placed a hand on either of her shoulders and gently brought their foreheads together; a lone sobbing breath escaped from Rose’s lips before the older Lalonde sealed the damage with a kiss to her temple.

  
“It’s ok Rosey. We can save the rest if we hurry.”

  
Rose took only a moment more to nod before drawing in a final steadying breath.

  
“Next time, darling sister of mine, perhaps it would behoove you to inform one’s sibling that ‘something really bad’ equates to acts of breaking and entering on private property and relieving someone of their ill-treated organic life based property as an act of human desperation; I was prepared to find you in want of acquiring a tub capable of withstanding an acid wash, or being in dire need of locating the nearest woodchipper and piranha emporium at my arrival. Barring that, the shovel in my car at the very least.”

  
Roxy laughed, cathartically, Rose assumed, judging by the way it reached all the way up from Roxy’s toes to her eyes.

  
“Aw come on Rosey Posie, have a little more faith in me than that. I mean;” she cast a glance around the shed, her eyes far more attuned to the darkness than Roses, “If I find out who’s running this nightmare then like, hell yeah, grab everything but the iodine cause I’d go to fucking town on this mo fo’s ass;” her grin faltered and Rose noticed the beginnings of a snarl; “I friggen hate people like this ya know? Like what kind of sick fuckin son of a monster do you have to be to do this crap?”

“I don’t know,” Rose replied; and really how could she respond with anything else?

  
She couldn't, not when she felt the very same hot white ire broiling through her bloodstream at the sight of the first ill treated feline she had laid her eyes against.

  
“Don’t worry, I’ll hide a couple bugs in here before we go, and I’ll have this bastard arrested before the week is out, you’ll see.”

  
“I don’t doubt it at all sister dearest,” the younger Lalonde agreed; and truly, she had every belief that Roxy would succeed with neither trial nor tribulation. After all, when Rose was three she was quite certain that she believed in Roxy’s abilities more than Santa Claus, and had even informed their mother of such, nearly causing a permanent end to their holiday festivities.

After learning about the incident, Roxy had later drafted up an eco friendly sleigh capable of breaking the soundbarrier when she was nine; so Rose figured that her convictions had been well placed and the sentiment had never quite diminished.

  
“Perhaps though, we should figure out how we are to relocate all these cats before their… owner… comes back;” Rose failed to contain the way her mouth hissed around the word; and briefly, she wonders if her snarl matched mother’s or her sister’s more.

  
Roxy nodded, which Rose managed to catch over the edge of the light.

  
“I got my car not too far from here, how bout yours?”

  
“A few minutes walk at least, assuming one avoids the brambles.”

  
“Alright then, here’s what we do, we have to split them fifty fifty to save time, we’re already losing a lot of night here, so we gotta work fast; I already picked all the locks so you just gotta open the cages to get them out. Now some of them are going to try to fight so put on gloves if you got ‘em.”

  
“I’m afraid that the one item I neglected to bring for this jaunt was a set of gloves of any valuable thickness.”

  
“That’s okay then, you can wear mine.”

  
Rose stifled the urge to protest; she knew her sister could be more stubborn than their mother when she was a gal with a goal, and if Rose was being honest with herself, she really was not in the mood to get scratched up to the nines. There’d also be no way to explain the marks when she’d arrive at school, she thought; long sleeves would only last until gym. It’d been years since she’d owned a cat and since she was still in highschool and already possessed a reputation for being cold and aloof-

  
Ahh; of course.

  
Roxy didn’t want any self harming rumors spreading around about her baby sister. Their mother would surely have a field day with a phone call from a well intentioned overworked and underpaid school employee concerning that.

  
Even half a semester into college she was still looking out for her.

  
As Roxy peeled the gloves off and handed them over, Rose wondered what it was that she did to inspire such devotion.  
She shrugged on the gloves and awaited Roxy’s next order.

  
“Ok, first things first Rose, take my keys and park my car closer; like pull right the fuck up to the door if you can. Don’t worry about the paint or tires or anything, I can just ask Dirk to fix it later.”

  
“How are we getting them into the car?”

  
“I’ve got a fuckton of those cardboard carriers, they got handles so we can just fill em up and strap em in. Once we start tho, things are probably going to get loud, cause the poor babies are gonna be absolutely terrified.”

  
The thought that Roxy had foresight enough to plan a bit of this through at least eases some of the tension from Rose’s jaw.  
“Should we worry about them alerting the breeder?”

  
Roxy shook her head; “I checked when I got here, the only ones home are us and these not as fluffy as they should be furrballs. Coast is clear for now but keep your eyes peeled.”

“Alright.”

  
Roxy grabbed her as she reached for the keys.

  
“Rose if something does go down you run ok?”

  
“Roxy, I hardly think-”

  
“You run,” the older Lalonde insisted; she couldn't see them clearly, her light was aimed somewhere near her knees, but Rose could tell her sister’s eyes were boring straight into her very core and it made her shiver; “You run and you don't stop, and you don't look back, and you pin everything on me, you got it?”

  
The couple of squeezes to her arms conveyed emotions Roxy did not say directly.

  
“I understand.”

  
“Good.” Roxy’s voice returned to its usual chipper tone and she released her hold over Rose’s wrists.

  
“Where are you parked?”

  
“Down the road, opposite where you came in, you can't miss it.”

  
Resolve steadied her nerves; she nodded before grabbing the keys and sprinted out of the shed, down the gravel road and onto the pavement and to the pink cadillac sitting on the edge of the road.

  
The car wasn’t anywhere near enough space for all of the cats alone, and therefore Rose quickly understood why Roxy had asked for her assistance. They would need both of their cars to get them all, and there was the possibility of a second trip if they could not fit them all during the first one.

  
If there was anything the Strilonde clan was good at, Rose thought, it was improvisation and she was certain that they would be able to make do regardless.

  
With a twist of the keys in the ignition, Rose soon had the car maneuvered into position.

  
When she parked, Roxy appeared at the door with a grin on her face and offered quick wave before scampering off to the trunk.

  
Rose left the car running as she slipped out and followed her sister; she figured the felines would have a better chance of survival if they stayed warm.

  
They spent a few minutes moving the stacks of cardboard into the shed, and then a few more propping some them open to save time.

  
“Do you want me to put them in the box or hold the box while you perform the transfer?”

  
“You got the gloves Buttercup so you can grab ‘em if you want to, but I’d feel better if you held the box,” she replied while pressing a box into the younger Lalonde’s hands, leaving little room for argument, “we don’t know if they’re infected with anything or not.”

  
They walked to the nearest cage and as tenderly as they could manage. Roxy began the task of plucking the tiny felines out of their crate. The instant Roxy picked each kitten up, they would spring to life, and Rose had a devil of a time trying to keep the box open enough for Roxy to slip them in, while also keeping the box closed enough to prevent the kittens from escaping.  
After the kittens were gone, the mother wedged herself against the back of the cage, hissed, and emitted a low warning growl.

  
Roxy grabbed her by the scruff and pulled her over to the box. As soon as she was in, Rose snapped the box closed and headed to the car; she wobbled a bit as she tried to balance the moving box with the act of opening the passenger seat door. She set the box down and quickly trotted back into the shed.

  
A small sense of pride warmed her, and she found she didn’t mind the needle thin scratches across her forearms left by some of the trickier felines, although she did not envy the thought of what battle wounds Roxy had likely taken.  
They’d only receive worse as the night wore on.

  
Rose grabbed another box and met Roxy at the next cage.

  
“We’re gonna fill up the cars, drop them off at my dorm, and then if we need to, come back for round two. Rinse, repeat.”  
Rose murmured her agreement and then they returned to work.

  
Roxy pulled the next lot of cats from the cage and places them into the box. Once full, again Rose darts to the car before sprinting back to the cages to begin the next transfer.

  
The remaining cats began to fuss and fidget inside their cages, some even worked up the courage to hiss when either Lalonde brushed past.

  
Rose felt pride at their fighting spirit.

She hoped she could talk her sister into letting her keep one.

  
They fell into a rhythm, wordlessly, save for the occasional swear caught under their breaths when a particularly nasty wound was dealt, or a particularly feisty cat began giving them too much trouble.

  
Box after box of cats were placed into the vehicle and the meows grew more frantic with each addition, leaving each Lalonde with a bitter feeling of urgency to round up the rest as fast as the could.

  
Eventually, the car reached its capacity and the girls needed to stop and regroup.

  
While Roxy began a safety check in her car, to make sure their precious cargo was loaded in safely and that there was not a single bit of room to spare for even a lone stray hair, Rose trotted to her vehicle to pull it in close enough for loading.

  
She took the time to move the unneeded emergency supplies into the trunk, and stuffed her needles along with them, where no stray kitty could come to any harm by any of the implements, and then took a minute extra to do a once over, scanning for trash or anything rustling about that might prove to be a hindrance or an embarrassment.

  
Finding none, she slid into the driver’s seat and began adjusting her mirrors.

  
She smirked at her reflection before starting the car and positioned it as close to her sister’s as she could get without blocking the her exit route.

  
Then the cat herding began again.

  
They filled box after box, and at one point, had to dive towards the shed doors to close them to prevent a stray cat from escaping. They managed to corner him after some herding, and were eventually able to box him up along with the others.  
Amazingly, with both of their car filled to their brims with mewling passengers, they had managed to secure all but the deceased for transport.

  
Then, slowly, they checked through the dead, just in case.

  
Up close, Rose got more of a view than she would have liked; frail bodies skeletally thin, patches of mange, ticks upon ticks, festering open wounds, dripping mucous, and one carcass that might as well have been mummified for how stiff it was. She wondered how long it would have had to be lying ignored in one of the crates for the grate pattern to ingrain itself into the body.

  
She swallowed back a mouthful of bile.

  
Roxy tapped her on the shoulder and she took the outstretched hand offering to help up.

  
They stood triumphantly in front of the empty cages for a few moments. Roxy wrapped her arm around the younger Lalonde’s shoulder and pulled her in for a quick hug.

  
“We did good.”

  
Rose hummed an affirmative and then broke away to take stock of her injuries.

  
She sported a few new scratches, some deeper than others, and one look at her sister told her that Roxy was probably in dire need of the first aid kit.

  
Rose beckoned her sister over and gestured to the driver’s seat. While Roxy settled herself, the younger Lalonde retrieved the medical supplies from the glovebox.

  
“Thanks Rosebud, nice to know I can always count on you, yeah?” There was a smirk that worked it way across her lips around the nickname before it darted away so that a small smile could take its place.

  
Rose assumed the sentiment was for more than just the medical box, and found herself smiling softly in return; she set the box on Roxy’s lap, opened it up and searched for the antibiotic ointment among the scattered stock of supplies while her sister took the liberty of using the spare hand towel to smear off some of the blood along her arms.

  
“What are sisters for, Roxy dear, if not for extemporaneous adventures of cat burglary during the middle of a Wednesday night?”

  
Roxy smiled, widely, and the younger Lalonde felt herself return the gesture.

  
After locating the ointment, Rose began applying it liberally to the wounded appendages attached to her sister, beginning with with the arm not holding the towel.

  
Rose had to literally twist her sister’s arm a few times, to make sure she got everywhere, and furrowed her brow whenever Roxy hissed or pinned her lower lip between her teeth.

  
She gave the arm a final glance over and nodded once, and was about to start on the next one when a glare of light in the rearview mirror caught her attention; at the same time Roxy tensed up and they found themselves frozen in place, Rose at the glare of light in the mirror, and Roxy at the sight of the car casting it.  
“Shit.”

 

 

~~~~~~

When the growl of the approaching engine fizzed off, Roxy vaulted backwards to the door of the passenger seat, swung it open, and rolled messily to a stop near the shed at the same time a slam of a truck door and a string of bellowing curses signaled the arrival of a very, very, irate kitten mill owner. His furious cursing grew louder as he caught sight of Roxy, and then he went silent before he changed directions and charged to the house behind him as fast as his legs could carry him.

  
Roxy began running after him, and tossed a shout on her way; “Rose stay there!”

  
The house filled with light and from her position, Rose could clearly make out the outline of a gun within the silhouette in the window, and the man’s frantic, fumbling attempts to load it.

  
Roxy’s silhouette quickly joined the man’s in the window and the two shadows collided against each other.

  
The two argued, audible through the doors left open, and shouts between the man and her sister became mixed with the ever growing cacophony of upset cats in the shed.

  
Then she watched her sister dive under the man’s legs, likely sweeping them out from under him, and the silhouettes dropped below her line of sight.

  
Rose raced to the porch at a speed that would have even left her uncle impressed, and tripped on her way up the stairs, skinning her knees as she came to a grinding halt into the hallway inside of the house.

  
During the seconds she took to free her mouth of carpet and blood, Rose lifted her head to see Roxy get a grip against the barrel of the gun being aimed in her direction from the man pinned underneath her.

  
Roxy tore the gun from the mill runner’s hands and bashed his face with the buttbefore flipping it around to shove the barrel into his mouth.

  
By the time Rose got to her feet, the gun went went off, adding a single deafening bang to the night’s orchestra of noises, followed by the sound of flesh splattering everywhere.

  
Then, only silence.

  
Rose lost her balance and toppled to the floor; her movement caught her sister’s attention.

  
Roxy lifted the gun from the corpse and dropped it beside him. She stood up and bits of human confetti slid down to land on top of the dead man beneath her like a miniature hailstorm comprised of grotesque components.

  
As Rose fumbled to regain her footing Roxy darted over to help her. She lifted the younger Lalonde by her arms and backed her against the wall to give Rose something to lean on until she remembered how to stand again.

  
Roxy began mouthing things, which Rose assumed were supposed to be words, but all she could make out was an ungodly ringing sound and the way her sister’s lips shimmered in their new, quickly congealing crimson coating.

  
“I’m sorry, what?”

  
“I said, are you alright?”

  
Rose lifted her gaze to her sister’s eyes, where she found concern and splatterings of blood slowly drying overtop designer brand bubblegum pink eyeshadow.

  
Rose felt herself nod and then quickly stuttered an audible confirmation.

  
“Ok, if you’re fine then the next thing we need to talk about is how to set the house on fire.”

  
“Because that is the natural choice in the progression of available events, yes.”

  
Roxy snorted before blowing a raspberry; “No silly, we have to make it look like a suicide first. And then make the fire look like it was a coincidental accident.”

  
“I can see how that would be beneficial to us escaping the confines of a prison cell, yes.”

  
“I’m thinking…” Roxy paused to wipe what looked to be a bit the man’s brain off her cheek, “faking a gas leak; the spark of the gun would be enough to have ignited the gas and cause the housefire. I better clean the gun off first though. We might want to clean ourselves off too. Burn our clothes with house even.”

  
“Will they be able to trace those back to us?”

  
“If they do I can always hack into their systems. But the gas leak is gonna blow this sucker sky high so no, probably not a thing we’ll be needing to worry about.”

  
“What about the cats?”

  
“I can pop this joint without hitting a single hair on their heads, trust me sis.”

  
Rose watched as excitement flooded her sister’s eyes.

  
She nodded; “Alright. I’ll grab the sweaters from the car, so we can at least pretend to be publicly decent when we hit the road.”

  
Roxy grinned broadly and with a sparkle in her eyes, trotted further into the house to begin her impromptu project.

  
Rose was left standing at the edge of the murder scene.

  
Gross-out gore filled horror games and horror movies, the vast expanse of the internet, and her forays into the literary world coupled with the terrible sleep paralysis induced grimdark nightmares she had chronically suffered as a child, had given her a broader tolerance for things macabre and repugnant; even still, she found herself filled with a stew of emotions on her way to retrieve the needed attire.

  
Horror.  
Disgust.  
Hatred.  
Fear.  
Relief.  
Pride.  
Excitement.

  
Rose’s heart was beating erratically, so having grabbed the sweaters, Rose exhaled a shaky breath and walked steadily back into the house, where she quietly watched her sister set up the scene.

  
The hardest part her sister had trouble with, was repositioning the body convincingly.

  
The body, along with the rest of the house was going to burn anyway, but it always paid to be vigilant in the types of things, Rose knew.

  
Once that was taken care of, Roxy picked a small skull fragment off of her shirt and stuck her hands on her hips; her smile was contagious.

  
“Alright then Rosey, time to strip off. There’s a shower down the in the backend that we can rinse off in,” she announced eagerly as she spun and walked deeper into the house.

  
Rose trailed after her obediently, sweaters in hand; she found herself quite eager at the thought of washing off the bits of human goo splattered across her face.

  
The bathroom was unfortunately in the same state the rest of the house was in, not quite falling apart, but certainly in need of loving care; Rose was glad there was only a single lightbulb dangling by its cord in the ceiling to illuminate the room.  
After glancing around, Rose plucked the towels off their rack and hung the sweaters in their place.

  
She swallowed a groan and her sister began fiddling with the plumbing to turn the water on.

  
The shower sprang to life after a few gurgles and a spit, and as the water began to heat, Roxy began peeling off her gore soaked garments.

  
Rose’s eyes trailed along her sister’s body, lingering over the emerging skin and bits of human remains still stuck there.  
Roxy tossed the younger Lalonde a glance, beckoning her to follow suit, so Rose began peeling hers off as well.  
“You want first dibs or can we share?”

  
“We can share. Time is of the essence I believe.”

  
“Hop in then,” Roxy replied, stepping into the shower herself.

  
Rose tried not to watch as the water ran in red rivers down her sister’s face and down between her breasts, so instead turned her gaze down to watch the blood infused water swirl around on the floor between their feet.

  
Roxy grabbed her by the arms again, this time to position her under the spray, pulling her face to face, with the water hitting their sides.

  
“Doesn't do any good if the water doesn't touch you.”

  
“Yes, I remember that lesson from bathtime with the boys quite well; I’d like to think I’ve yet to sink as low as our brothers’ ironic hygiene regimens.”

  
Roxy chuckled before bowing her head and began to run her fingers through her hair.

  
In a mock-Strider impression she replied, “No see, it’s ironic because it’s a shower but we’re dirtier when we come out because we don’t let the soap touch us. We just boil in all the hot water so we can smell like a locker room full of gym socks in a barn.”

  
“And leave nothing but the water as frigid as your hearts so you girls can feel at home,” Rose finished for her, before wiping her face under the water.

  
She could feel Roxy’s answering chuckle in front of her nose, and Rose found herself pressing into her sister for more warmth.

  
Roxy hummed absently and began running her fingers through the younger Lalonde’s hair.

  
The sensation itself was familiar to Rose, but the sensations it was causing weren't, and when Roxy deemed her stands of white-blonde hair clean and retracted her hands, Rose almost let a whine escape from between her lips.  
Roxy did not seem to be finished with her however, and she found herself rotated, with her back to her sister’s chest.  
A hand rested warm against her hip, and another began gliding gently against her arm.

  
As Rose began to relax again, Roxy wrapped her arms around her, and she felt her sister’s breath against her ear.

  
They stood for a few seconds under the water that way, and Rose tried to find anything about the wall in front of her more interesting than the feel of her sister pressed against her back.

  
“Are you mad at me?” Roxy asked quietly through the spray.

  
“No,” she replied, just as gently.

  
“I didn’t think I was actually going to… you know,” Roxy whispered, her breath still hot against her ear; she pressed closer, pulled Rose in tighter, “It just happened so fast…” Rose had to bite her lip to keep silent; “and I was scared. For me. For you. And the cats...”

  
Rose’s breathing grew ragged.

  
“Please don’t stop talking to me for it. It wasn’t intentional.”

  
“I won’t,” Rose replied; she placed a hand over her sister’s arms, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply; “It’s ok.”

  
“I knew I could count on you, Buttercup,” Roxy replied happily; she pressed a tiny kiss to Rose’s cheek, and then drew back to finish cleaning herself off.

  
Rose swallowed the lump in her throat and slipped past Roxy and stepped out of the shower. She wrung her hair over the sink and for a few moments, her eyes were glued to the reflection of her sister in the mirror, until the heat from her breath clouded the glass and her gaze shifted to herself. Lilac eyes still rimmed faintly with mascara stared at her for a moment and then Rose tore herself away from the mirror to tug on one of the sweaters.

  
“Good thing we like them long,” she said, tugging the hemline down to her thighs.

  
“Wonk,” Roxy replied as she twisted the shower knob off; “You might have to slather that ointment on me again, but like, when we’re back at my dorm I think.”

  
She wrung her hair in the tub and Rose handed her the other sweater.

  
She shrugged it on and yanked the neckline around her shoulders, allowing her to pull the length of it past her groin.  
“Well Sis, time to start the gas. Better wait for me outside.”

 

Finding herself quickly ushered out of the house so Roxy could start the gas leak, Rose meandered over to the cars and took a seat on the hood of the pink cadillac. The heat from the running engine stuck to her legs.

  
Anticipation began to build as the cold air wrapped itself around her damp skin and wet hair. She rubbed her hands and tried to breath some heat back into them, and quickly settled from jamming them underneath her arms.

  
A few minutes later, the elder Lalonde slipped out of the house and came to join her on the hood of the car.

  
“Should be only be a few minutes for the house to fill up. Then a few minutes after that, the microwave will blow, and when it sets off, we fly outta here like bats outta hell; ” Roxy hopped up onto the car and sat beside her.

  
Rose scooted closer and Roxy wrapped an arm around the younger Lalonde’s shoulder.

  
“Will they find traces of us around the shed?”

  
“Well obviously, we were just two concerned animal lovers who wanted to help move them out of range of the fire.”  
Rose nodded and breathed into her hands again.

  
Roxy pulled her closer, but Rose received only a few second’s worth of body heat before the house imploded and collapsed upon itself.

  
Roxy lept up with a holler and a few triumphant obscenities and began to jump around as the remnants of the house and the miller inside were consumed by flames.

  
The light from the fire spilled out everywhere.

  
Rose watched her sister gyrate around happily; the spring to her steps, the joy in the her voice, the reflected light of the fire in her hair and the sweater riding up around her hips.

  
Rose licked her lips, which felt far too dry, and suddenly felt far too warm. Her heart was racing, too fast, and felt nearly dizzy.

  
Then Roxy spun around, bounded over to her, and grabbed her by the shoulders to haul her up. She had opened her mouth to say something, but she didn't have time to say any of it because when Rose landed against her, her hands wrapped around the elder Lalonde’s neck and she pressed their mouths together.

  
It took a moment for their lips to form a kiss, and when their tongues met, Rose’s eyes flew open and she pulled back; she was speechless and tried to stutter out an apology.

  
Rose was then silenced, by Roxy pinning her to the hood of the cadillac.

  
Roxy grinned at her, slid a knee between her legs, and kissed her deeply.

  
Rose moaned, and felt her sister’s hands slide up her thighs to secure a better grip around her hips.

  
When they finally ran out of breath, Roxy drew back while still holding Rose against the car.

  
She was grinning ear to ear and offered a wink.

  
“Last one home gets to bathe all the cats.”

  
“You’re on.”

 


End file.
